


empty gold

by 5sosandfood



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, aka my fav tag, ashley is just luke's bffl, ashton WAS a billionaire, ashton has aids so if that makes you uncomfortable don't read, ex-billionaire!ashton, luke is a stripper, stripper!luke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 04:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2838101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5sosandfood/pseuds/5sosandfood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a tragedy in which luke and ashton are both dying, but in different ways</p><p>or, the one where luke's a stripper, ashton's an ex-billionaire with aids, and ashton just really wants luke. it's a bad deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	empty gold

**Author's Note:**

> this can also be found on wattpad @meekle :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this fic because it's my favorite one I've ever written! the first chapter is a bit slow, but trust me, it'll pick up :)
> 
> hope you enjoy !

**‘CELLULAR MOGUL ON DOWNWARD SPIRAL’**

 

Luke furrows his eyebrows, peeling the newspaper off the counter to read the intriguing article.

 

_‘After proclaiming only two weeks prior that he is HIV+, CEO of Clairvoyant Wireless, Ashton Irwin, has reportedly filed for bankruptcy at the age of 28.’_

 

“You know, we’re hosting an event for him this Friday.”

 

A voice startles Luke, and his shaky hand drops the newspaper. He finds Ashley hovering, stuffing her mouth with a soft, fresh cinnamon roll. She’s brought one for Luke too—it sits on a dragon-themed plate, appropriately emitting spiralling wisps of steam.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Ashton Irwin,” she explains. Luke takes the sweet bun from the plate to reveal a majestic, emerald-green dragon. He bites into the delicacy while he waits for Ashley’s finish, the yeast melts in his mouth—he guesses Christopher’s in a good mood. “He’s old pals with Rob, and apparently the boss man feels bad for the dude so we’re throwing sort of a ‘Get-Better-But-Not-Literally-Because-You’re-Broke-And-You’ll-Inevitably-Die’ Party.”

 

Luke chuckles, ducking his head a bit to hide his embarrassingly-big mouth; with the action, Luke gets a bit of the sugary icing on his nose. He scrunches his little nose, lifting his sweater paw up to his face and rubbing off the sweetness. “Why haven’t I heard about it? Am I invited?”

 

“Yeah, all staff is.” Ashley shrugs, cleansing her icing-coated fingers on her black, canvas apron.

 

“To work?” Luke chortles.

 

“Actually, I think we’re meant to be guests. Rob said something about hiring a catering crew.”

 

Luke grins, tongue tracing the ridges of his top teeth. “You think we’ll finally get open bar?”

• • •

Luke breathes a steady stream of air from his puffy cheeks, shaking his hands, loosening his joints. Stage fright has never been an issue for the 21-year-old, but there are, of course, always nerves that any performer must overcome.

 

“Now, hailing far from the Land of Oz, your next performer, the Thunder Down Under!”

 

Luke steps a safe foot from the curtain, spreading his spandex clad legs a reasonable distance, assuming his regular position. The curtain draws back, and Luke slowly slides his hand from his ankle to his pelvis, jutting his hips forward once when the accompanying track indicates so.

 

Luke then struts forward to the small (by comparison) wooden chair, straddling it from behind. His mouth falls agape, appearing lustful as he stretches his right leg across the chair’s back, ultimately reuniting with the left leg.

 

After much practice, Luke can effortlessly slide the pants down his legs, finishing the move in its successful final form with a foot against the chair’s seat and a bent knee. The leg then shoots vertically in the air, after returning to its original spot where Luke shifts all of his weight and stands on his left foot. Using his right foot, Luke knocks the chair over, circling the wooden furniture until he settles with an uncomfortable place on the seat’s edge.

 

Luke spreads his legs wide here, not leaving much to the imagination as his bulge protrudes far from his skin. He bucks his hips off the wood repeatedly, oblivious to any reactions of the crowd now; this is his zone—his focus.

 

He stands, then turns his backside toward the club, grinding his body down against the seat. Each time he rises from the wood, he reaches back and delivers a fair smack to his well-exposed ass-cheek. Grind, smack, grind, smack, grind, smack, until Luke’s entire buttocks burns. Once he can virtually feel the blood boiling in his backside, Luke finishes his routine, snatches the black spandex pants, and marches away, giving his ass one last smack (using the show pants) for good measure.

 

Luke sighs with relief when he meets the causality of backstage. His ears now open to the applause of the audience he’s just pleased, he smiles contently.

 

“Hey, Goldilocks!” Classic Ashley calls out, surprising Luke by chucking a pair of sweatpants at his face. “Let’s grab some Waffle House. I’m on break.”

• • •

Luke exhales shortly, watching the sugars swim around in his caramel-colored coffee as he swirls the red, plastic stirrer provided by the restaurant.

 

“What’s wrong, Big Sexy?” Ashley asks, frowning. “You’re getting a chocolate chip waffle. You can’t be sighing dejectedly.”

 

Luke chuckles lightly at the girl who never fails to brighten his spirits. “I just… do you ever want a real career? I mean, we won’t be strippers forever.”

 

Ashley answers with a compromising smile and a shrug. “We won’t, and you’re right. But, I mean, we shouldn’t worry about it right now, Luke. We’re still young, fresh.”

 

“No, I mean… sometimes I want to do something more _now_. It’s just—the thrill is leaving me. It’s not—when I get offstage, I don’t feel the same buzz. It’s like I’m leaving myself behind…somewhere—whether it’s on stage, or maybe I just lost myself a long time ago. I dunno, I feel…it’s like I’m almost—”

 

“Empty?” Ashley fills in, clanking her dripping spoon against the dirty table. Luke nods sadly. “I call that ‘Empty Gold,’ my dear sex boy. When things that are meant to be amazing can’t live up to their expectations. When you lose everything you thought you knew, and all you’re left with is virtually pointless memories, material things. Empty Gold, my friend. _Empty Gold_.”

**Author's Note:**

> friendly reminder that this is also posted on wattpad under the user @meekle :)
> 
> if you liked it, comments, kudos, and even a bookmark would be nice :)
> 
> thank you for reading!


End file.
